


Face the Challenge, Embrace the Change

by AnnoraHenryston



Series: 2 Years, Bruce [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Happy Ending, I have no idea, OFC has an awful brother, OFC's brother name is James, and James has a bestfriend named as Michael Erik, as in James Charles, bruce is still batman, but that's about it, fun and playful, no mention of real lastname incase fandom kills me, what am I tagging, when I say bestfriend...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-11-18 03:01:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18111914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnoraHenryston/pseuds/AnnoraHenryston
Summary: So Annabella has an interest in the dark shadow that hides in Gotham? So she 'accidentally' nearly got robbed? and stood up Bruce Wayne on a date...Yeah, blame that on her brother - who literally is too stupid to tell his best friend that he's in love with him.So Batman was on the watch and saved a girl that was being 'robbed'? So Bruce got interested in an author with a mysterious background who stood him up on the date? Though thanks to her way-too-friendly-brother, he got to 'see' her after two years."James, fuck you," were the words that Annabella keeps on saying.





	1. Challenge

**Author's Note:**

> Annabella Lillith Slora and James Charles Slora are Scottish, though James is more Scottish than Annabella, she's more English.  
> Michael Erik Fitzergald is more Irish, but he doesn't appear in the story, only mentioned.  
> Bruce Wayne is still American and The Bat (shadow) of Gotham.

Gotham, the very darkest area one could ever say. Not many people want to be in this area, not just because of the crime, but also because of the dark shadow that lies behind the city, watching over the city of gothic. People know about the shadow. It's no rumour has it, it is the truth, a fact that keeps haunting the crime-makers in Gotham. However, no matter how haunting it is, from here and there, there would will, have something happening that would drag the shadow out from his tower and try to kill him. Which it never ends well. Not to the shadow, but the others.

 

Rumour has it, that behind this shadow it is the billionaire playboy, the head of Wayne Industry, Bruce Wayne. He is the one controlling the shadow. No one actually believes this, though the part where his parents were killed by the crime-makers...At some point, this is convincing for a while.

 

"Do you believe this?" the soft voice asks from behind the taxi driver.

"Ma'am, when you've been in Gotham as long as I have, you tend to just ignore all the rumours," the driver replied in a heavy American accent, "Besides, Mr Wayne might be a playboy, but he is good people."

 

Annabella thanked the driver and walked away from the taxi towards the alley that leads to her hotel.

 

It's night-time and was raining heavily just a few minutes ago, the alley's wet and smells like wet garbage. There are pools of water puddles around the area, some bigger than the other. If there were people around they will question Annabella's choice of route. She knows there are other routes that would lead her to the hotel, but she has something else on mind that needs to be done before she goes back.

 

If half of the rumours are true, that the shadow does watch its people and of which he is hated by the criminals...

 

She frowned and sighed.  _I came to America for a holiday and look where I got myself to._

 

"Look what we've gotten here?"

 

_Great. Too late to turn back now._

 

Annabella paused, she speeds up on walking further into the alley as if she's trying to get away and being scared.

 

" 'ey, my bro's talking to ya," two men stopped in front of her. One with a long vertical scar going down his neck and the other one's missing an ear.

 

Internally, she just wants to roll her eyes and walk off, but on the outside, all she could do is to show a scared smile and clench onto her bag (showing how hard it is to control herself from punching the man in their faces, but they took that as scared).

 

"I'm just...passing by," she says lightly.

The eldest laughed. "Passing by, darling? Maybe we can help you with that? We are gents, should we  _escort_ you out of the alley?" With that, the other two laughed while eying Annabella with lust and moving in slowly.

 

Annabella's hands clenched tighter on her bag, doing her best not to pull out the dagger in her bag and slice them up like pies then dump them into the trash like where they're supposed to be.

 

Within a minute, Annabella's been pushed against the wet wall of the alley. The water is going through her jacket, all the way to her skin, giving her a shiver of coldness.

 

Just as her patient ran out, a dark figure overcast the four of them in the alley and before the three members could react, they have flown across to the other side of the alley. Hitting the wall first then landing face-flat onto the ground that's full of puddles. The sight made Annabella chuckle lightly.

 

Knowing the existence of the shadow and seeing the real thing is really different. The man's tall, very tall for her. His back is in front of her, making a gesture of protection.

_Protection._ A very strange word to her, a word that she hadn't felt since... a very long time ago. There's something about him... _something_ _._

 

"Ambulance?" the shadow spoke in a melodious baritone, it sounds too nice to be true, there most likely to be some sort of high tech in there.

"The police then?" This time Annabella woke up from her thoughts.

 

"What? No, no. I'm fine, I'm not hurt," she released her hands from her bag and shook her head slightly.

 

The bat figure (literally, with bat ears even) examined her from top to bottom, inside out.

"You, don't belong in Gotham. Go to Metropolis," his words sounded taunt-like and it kinda pissed Annabella off in all sort of ways.

 

"Nobody asked you to save me, buddy. And, by the way, you don't know me so don't say shit like  _don't belong in Gotham_ ," she tried to push the figure away, but he didn't even move an inch away from her. She groaned with annoyance and walked around him instead.

"You won't last five days," she suddenly hears him say.

 

Annabella stood next to one of the unconscious body, she shoved the bat figure with a look and smiled. "Really? Is that what you think now?" While smiling at him, she gave a full-force kick to the one that's waking up. Before a yell could come out, the man went unconscious again, maybe not going to wake up, like at all.

 

"Challenge accepted, then. So what if I do. 'Cause I'm thinking I'll fit right in," she smiles brightly at the bat.

The bat doesn't reply.

"If I do, I want you," she paused, then added, "For twenty-four hours, without the bat suit. How about that?"

The figure still doesn't reply, but Annabella doesn't mind anymore. She's not even angry anymore. She kept the bright smile on her face and waved him goodbye, then walked out of the alley.

 

After she left and after the bat sending the three to the police, he went back to his tower. As soon as he lands back at the tower, his ear-piece beeped.

 

"Have you taken up the challenge yet?" asked an English voice.

"Check for her background," the bat avoided the question.

The English man from the other side hummed with interest, "Challenge excepted."

 

"Alfred," the bat sighed.


	2. Embrace 1.0

"Annabella Lillith Slora, Scottish. Born 1996, fifteenth May. Graduated from Oxford at the age of twenty-one with two Master's degree, on Criminal Psychology and Computer Science. Apparently working on her Ph.D still. Designed her own computer system a year later, was invited to MIT for a speech a month ago. Published her own book beginning of this year, sold one million copies. Not much, but the idea behind the book caught quite a few well-known authors' eyes. Hero's with multiple backgrounds, a science-fic," Alfred paused and looked towards Bruce, "Including yours, Master Wayne. You actually read her book a while back."

 

Bruce lifted a brow of curious. While handling a cup of coffee he says, "I don't remember."

 

Alfred nodded, "No one would remember. She didn't use her real name on the cover. The name she used was," he gave a quick glance to the cover, "Ah, here it is. Annabella Seattle. Same name, but different last name." He put the book down on the coffee table and gave a look to Bruce, "A clever one this time. Better than the ones before. If I may, I do suggest you take that challenge. It's not that hard to contact her, just so you know."

 

"Alfred," Bruce cut in as he puts the cup down.

"Yes, Master Wayne?" Alfred questions.

"I remember you said there's an invitation to a social event," he says.

Alfred pulled the invitation out from the pocket. "I thought you didn't want to go," he commented.

 

Seeing this, all Bruce could do was to rub his own temple. "All the talking, just so I would agree?" he sighs.

 

In the end, Bruce had gotten dressed and got into the car, drove all the way to the hotel that the event takes place in.

 

The moment he had arrived, all of the cameras were on him. He pulls out the playboy smile and nodded to the cameras and reporters. There were quite a lot of media that it felt like as if he were walking the red-carpet. He wonders who was behind the event. Someone with power that is for sure. But why pull such a fancy scene in a not so fancy area?

 

"Mr Wayne!" a blonde appeared from the crowd.

"Ms Blake," Bruce greeted her with a gentle kiss to her rosy cheek. The romantic greeting made Bella Blake blush.

 

Bella Blake. The youngest daughter of the counsellor also is the most precious one, who, too, has a huge crush on Bruce-the-playboy-Wayne.

 

 _Bella..._ The name suddenly reminded him of the one he met in the dark alley. Fearsome, he'll give her that. 

 _Annabella. The combination of gracious and beauty. Actually describes her very much._ For the first time in his life, Bruce finds himself wondering ideas on ~~a woman~~ , a girl, she's only twenty-three. 

 

"I wonder who's hosting," he heard Bella say. "I'm guessing someone who's rich and bored. Maybe bold even. Like an old man who has nothing to do," her words made a few chuckles in the crowd of people. But Bruce thinks otherwise.

 

No one's that bored to host an event in Gotham. There are parties, but very little social-event-parties, like this one. Unless...unless the person behind it has nothing to fear or that he/she is looking for  _it._

Bruce leaves the crowd for the first time ever and hides under the shadow, watching everybody's movements. Behind his head, he has an answer on the person behind it. Not that he  _knows_ , he has this feeling since she left the alley that this is not going to end just like that. Something's telling him that they'll meet very soon again.

 

And he was right, just like always.

 

"Welcome, Gotham. My name is Annabella Slora, some might know me as Annabella Seattle..." As soon as she appeared in the ballroom, all of the spotlights were on her. Not just because of the young voice, but because of the beauty. Everything a woman could possibly have seems to be all on her. Just by walking down the stairs, Bruce could already tell that she's not what everybody thinks. And definitely not someone to be messed around with.

 

"Slora? I thought they all died in that car accident," a man standing afar from Bruce whispered.

"Most people think that way and maybe it would be better that way too, but the reality is the reality. The Slora's left two blood-lines. She and her older brother, who's quite mysterious, he only appear as a name," one of the other man replies in a soft tone.

"Why would people wish so?" the man asked.

"Seriously? Which universe have you been living in?" the person rolls his eyes and explains the Slora business.

 

Bruce half listens to the conversation and half watches Annabella shaking people's hands, greeting them with the cutest, kindest smile that makes one melt into it. Now at least he understood how she wrote such perfect multiple identity book. _She's_ one of the  _identities_.

 

"May I ask why did you come to Gotham out of all the places you could go?" One reporter that's standing nearby were Bruce's standing asked Annabella.

 

Annabella smiled. "Well, let's just say I'm quite curious in this mythical city and to its shadows," she replied. As if something triggered her, her eyes met Bruce's. Again, she smiled and added in, "Shadows, the darkness of a place is always the best to find secrets."

* * *

"See, it's stuff like this that gives me trust issues," Annabella choked out the words.

 

The bat figure released her and dropped her back to the ground.

 

She let out a sigh of relaxation, smoothed her trenchcoat's collar, then lifted her head up towards the bat. "Did you follow me all the way here?" she asked.

 

There was no reply from the figure, but she isn't bothered by the silent treatment. "You know, I actually really didn't expect to see you this evening, neither to say you would save me, again."

 

"Was around the area," he replied. Avoiding the first part of the sentence.

 

Annabella smiled. Not of the one earlier on, but a warm and full of fun. "It's quite a way from the tower to here, innit?" She took out her phone from the dirted trenchcoat and handed out to him, "So, just as promised. Now it's time to pick a date."

 

The bat stared at her with cold eyes. WIthout a single word, he left. Behind him Annabella's shouting, "Two weeks from today, twelve-thirty, Museum of Arts! Without the armour or I promise the front-news would be  _True Face Under the Shadow_!" As she finished the sentence, a silver shine came across her eyes and cut off the strap of her bag.

 

She turned towards the silver and saw the shining Batarang stuck to the alley wall.

"Thanks for the present!" she yelled into the darkness.

* * *

"If you want quietness, I suggest you go there two weeks later," says Alfred to him through the communicator.

"Alfred..."

"She definitely won't let it walk by this easily. Not until you agree personally."

"Alfred..."

"Master Wayne."

 

Bruce took off his mask and walked off the Watch Tower. For the first time, he doesn't feel the want of being here.

 

"Coffe, Alfred."

"Coming back very early today I see," Alfred stated and cut the feed.


	3. Embrace 2.0

The past week and a half have been a torture to Bruce and the bat. With rumours of Bruce having a secret girlfriend flying around Gotham and having Alfred teasing him upon the  _love-lunchbox_ that he gets every day at work, he can't even go to events do 'certain things'. He did that once before and the next thing he realises is the whole Gotham newspapers' headline are:  **Bruce Wayne. A Cheater?!**

It's not just Bruce's daily life, but also his nightlife as the bat is influenced. In the past, night crimes were very common to find, but now it seems as if all criminals decided to have a holiday at the same time. And somehow, on the bench of the Watch Tower, there would always be a cup of coffee, black. The first time seeing it he had thought it was Alfred, but that thought only lasted for a split second. It was very clear from whom it was, especially when the note says, "Twelve-thirty?"

 

"Every single day. She does have a spirit," those were the first words of Alfred after knowing she's been doing it for a week and a half. "In ancient China, when a man saves a woman, to repay him back, she has the choice of marrying him, Alfred says.

 

Bruce sighed and threw the waffles aside. "She's Scottish, Alfred. And this is the 21st Century."

Alfred nodded, "She is Scottish, but her mother's side's ancestors were from China."

"Since when?"

"The eighteen-hundreds. Though, she herself is more English than Scots."

"...Eighteen-hundred..." Bruce is speechless.

 

Suddenly, out of nowhere, an extra voice appeared on the far away communicator. "I see you don't like the coffees I brought you."

 

Bruce and Alfred both looked towards the screen of the computer, at the extra name that appeared.

 

It says _Batsy._

 

Alfred smiled at the name while Bruce just finds it irritating and disturbing.

 

"How did you get in?" Bruce asked.

"Silly. I hacked of course. And hello to you too. Seriously, you really have little patient on small talks," stated Annabella from the other side.

 

"How long did it take you to hack in?" Alfred asked with a little curious tone.

"Round 'bout three days to by-pass all the security and then four days on re-writing the system so you won't find out when you're using it," she replied. "You must be Alfred then. Bruce's butler and his father figure," Annabella paused and then added, "I wish I had someone like you."

 

Bruce frowned a little at that. "Why are you here?"

 

Annabella hummed. "Well, I did hack into the system. It'll be rude not to stop by and say hello. By the way, what's up with the nicknames in the system? Brucie and Brucy, Batsy and Batie? All those _c-_ i-e and _y_ s?"

 

When the sentenced ended, Aflred coughed drily. "Master Wayne was drunk when he came up with security password and other stuff.

 

Bruce decided to exclude himself on this subject.

 

"He can get drunk?" Annabella exclaimed with surprise.

 

 _Definitely, time to change the subject._ Bruce had thought to himself.

 

"What exactly  _are_ you doing here?" says Bruce coldly.

 

It's like she doesn't pick up the irritation and coldness within Bruce's tone, still talking with an optimistically tone of voice, she says, "Please. You know why I'm here. It's been ten days since I last saw you, Bruce. I've already got the tickets for the museum. All you have to do is to..." her sentence was cut off by Bruce interrupting.

 

"I'll go," he says.

 

A small pause was made by Annabella. "Pardon?" she asks softly.

"Send the ticket through."

"Of course, of course. Right away!" The ticket came through within seconds.

"I'll see you in..."  _four days_ weren't even out when Bruce Bruce switched off the communicator.

"Wipe the system clean. I'll recreate a new security-pass," Bruce says as he prints the ticket out.

 

Alfred nods. "You finally decided."

"She's going to keep on bothering, it's the only way."

"Master Wayne, I must say, what makes you think she'll stop after?" Alfred drops the question to Bruce, scops the coffee tray up and leaves Bruce in his Bat-cave.

* * *

 The Saturday, twelve-thirty at the Museum of Arts. Sitting inside a self-updated Benz, Bruce waits for the annoying Annabella to arrive. He came down an hour before the time, thinking it'd be wiser to do so as for she seems to be someone that _can_ show up earlier than expectation. However, the reality is beyond what he had thought.

 

It's now thirteen-hundred and there's not a sight of her appearing any sooner.

 

_Has he just been..._

* * *

"Breaking news. Bruce Wayne has been sighted at the Museum of Arts. It does seem that our billionaire playboy is waiting on the secret girlfriend that's been spreading throughout Gotham. Audrey, what's the situation at your side?" the Live News reporter asks.

 

"Hello, Cameron. I have been here since twelve-hundred, the time now is few minutes into fourteen-thirty and Mr Wayne currently is still in his car, parked outside the museum," the woman turned the camera to the black Benz and said.

* * *

"Mike, you don't understand! I need to go back!"

 

The man named Mike turned around, sorrow written all over his face, "Miss, please make this easy for me. You ran away after your speech at MIT and knocked out you bodyguards while destroying your tracker, leaving work behind. It's been more than a month, Miss." 

 

Annabella tried to break free from the handcuffs -  _Handcuffs!_ \- while stating with a little horror, "I have a fucking date, you moron! A fucking date! With BRUCE WAYNE!"

 

"We know, Miss. But that, all of those things you did, weren't it for the second book? How much of it is from there?" Mike pointed towards Annabella's heart. The words shocked Annabella more than anything. As if someone grabbed her by the neck, she couldn't breathe. She felt this pain in her chest and her stomach dropped.

 

Yes, true. In the beginning she did it because she had a mindset of wanting to write a second book, but it changed. _It changed!_ The moment when she saw him again in the alley, it changed. She liked teasing him, making him going nuts, breaking the facade he has. She liked making him go mad, but can't do anything to her. She liked the fucking idea of actually going on a date with him! She liked liking him.

 

"C'mon, Bells, smile a little. Keep the heid. You've been away for quite a while now, you know? And you know how bad I am with those talkative elderlies," a man with brown curls walked into the flight.

On the sight, Annabella growled with anger, "Fuck you, James! Let me go! You bloody numptie!"

James rolled his eyes. "Sis, there no devil way that I'm gonna let you go before we land in Scotland," he smiles and then turns to Mike, who's absolute in relief that James' here, "Mike, let's roll it before someone figures out where my wee sister's whereabouts is." Out of curiosity and being a  _dear_ brother, he adds, "Wonder what reaction he'll get when he sees himself being played. Jus' so you know, the news of him been stood up is flying in media."

 

Annabella gives up on freeing herself from the handcuffs, instead, she grabs by James and pulls him down to give him a choke. "Yer feckin' douchiest douche!" her Scottish accent appeared.

 

Mike watches the two siblings fight as the plane takes off.  _What a flight this is going to be._ He thought to himself.

* * *

**Two years later:**

"Scotland?"

"Aye, Scotland. I'm _enviting_ you over as a friend, plus," James points down to the contract, "This is a great deal innit, Bruce?"

Bruce gave a few small taps on the wooden table, thinking. Just a few seconds later, he nods to James.


	4. Change 1.0

 "Mike, where's James?" While piling the documents out on the marble table, Annabella asked without looking up.

 

Mike, standing not far away from Annabella, slide the phone open, checked the time and said, "Will be arriving here within ten minutes. Mr said he'll arrive at twelve-thirty."

 

 _Twelve-thirty. Damn James!_ "Like he's ever on time before. Forget about James, what did they say about the contract? The elderlies weren't very glad on James behalf, about the things that written apparently."

"They preferred to discuss in person, they said. But a few hours ago, they changed they mind on that, they had agreed to let Mr take over the full contract," Mike replies.

Annabella nods with a smile. "Good, I definitely don't want them to ruin James' mood. Not when for the first time he decides to take a contract and was in for it with great energy," then she remembered that James didn't even mention the other company's name, "What the other side's name?"

 

At the question, Mike paused and for the first time ever, he doesn't reply with a straight forward answer, "Mr threatened me not to tell."

 

"Threatened?" She chuckled. "James? Threatening you? With what? His cuteness of the dimpled smile or his way too Scottish accent?"

 

Mike looked away from Annabella and mumbled a few words, which she couldn't make a single word out.

"Seriously? What did he say that made you to chick-out like this?" she laughed at the scene.

"...Mister used Erik to threaten me," Mike says softly.

 

It took a while for Annabella to process the name, Erik. A long silence was made on hearing the name.

Michael Erik Fitzerald, James' best friend and when she says  _best friend_ _..._ He's a good person, a gentleman, also a good friend of hers. But he is no person one would piss off, especially when it involves James. Remembering the time when he exploded during their - James and him - holiday in Las Vegas, it still sets shivers down her spine. The things that he did to those kidnappers. If that's not hell itself then she doesn't know what is.

 

Annabella took off her glasses, "What did James say?"

"To sell me."

"......" Annabella is speechless. She sighed, "Forgive me of saying this, but I don't think Michael would want to  _buy_ you, even for free. Maybe you can try to sell James to him instead. Michael would be very glad to buy him with whatever he has," she nods to herself, "Maybe we should print out a contract to sell James, if one day we're broke, we can always sell him to Michael. I'm pretty he would love that."

 

"Stop trying to teach mine assistant to disobey me, Bells!" James' voice appeared in the room before he himself.

 

Annabella waved away Mike and walked out of the lounge.

 

James threw the suitcases down and stretched out. "This is definitely the last time I'm going to work on a contract. All those meetings and trying to convince people that this is better than that, and that is worse than this. I'm so done," as he speaks the words, he throws himself down onto the soft couch not so far away. "Oh, by the way, I brought you a present all the way from America."

 

The words America gave a shiver to Annabella. Two years is quite long, but she still can't get over the memories.

"Present?" she says, then added, "And hoot did we discuss that heavy accent of yours?"

 

He lifted his head up from the couch and smiled, "Bells, your Scots is showing too." He then quickly ducked down before a bottle of water hit him on his forehead.

"Unwrap your present now, Bells. It's been standing outside for quite a while," James' voice came from the couch, "And Michael invited me over to Ireland a few days ago, I'm gonna fly there tomorrow."

 

Rolling her eyes, Annabella says, "Get a room," then walked out, not realising that James had peaked his head out and smiled with a grin while stood up silently, following her steps behind her.

 

When James had said about giving her a present from America, the first thing she did was to freeze on the spot. Gotham, America, two words, one place, one of which she does not want to do anything with. But this is a gift from James and that means breaking her rules. No matter how irritating he can be sometimes, he's her brother, her only family and that means a lot. 

Shaking away the weird feeling she's getting from the present, her head flowed away to the part that she's been avoiding Gotham, America to be specific, for as long as she could. Business trips were all given to Mike and Nick and they do a great job at that, while she would just sit behind the camera, pulling the strings. Some of the other industries don't even know her existence, which is actually fine to her. Fewer media, the less chance of  _him_ finding her and strangle her with his bare hands.

 

Every time, remembering what she'd seen on the news after she got back to Scotland, on how Bruce Wayne got stood up and waiting in front of the museum until the very next day...All she could do was to cage James in, banned him from all electronics that wasn't under her supervise for nearly six months. If Michael hadn't come and talked Annabella out, James might still be  _in jail_ \- as James put it.

 

After being  _released_ , James had escaped with Michael to Ireland, spending most of his days there and less in Scotland, though he would come back from here and there during the one and a half years, he did basically live in Ireland instead. And then a few months ago, out of nowhere, James flew down and wanted to do a contract in America. "Michael came up with a tekul plan and I love it. It's a great one, Bells, believe me!" "I'd rather believe Michael, thanks." And that was how she replied to James.

 

When the elderlies disapproved on James' doing, all she did and said was to roll her eyes and shrugged, "There's money to waste." 

But, truly, sometimes she really questioned who's the elder one between James and her.

 

"Present," she sighed. "What possibly could he ge-t" her voice dropped immediately as she opens the front door and saw the familiar figure standing not so far away from her. She might not have her glasses on, but that figure... _THAT FIGURE!_ Quickly, she slammed the door shut.

"You're dreaming. It's not real," she mumbles. She waited for a few seconds and then re-opened the door, this time the figure is right in front of her.

The figure smiled and she heard him say, "You're staring."

 

To that, Annabella slammed the door shut, right in his face and yelled, "James Charles Slora! Ya fecking bampot!"


	5. Change

Lunch for Annabella is the best thing ever to have during a long morning of work. She would sit outside, watching the birds flying high up and enjoy the small breezes if it's not too cold. If so, then she would be inside, enjoying a cup of warm tea or coffee with whatever she's eating for lunch.

 

Now is the beginning of June in Scotland, the temperature is chilly, so lunch has been set inside and there's no way that she's going outside. Even if it means not facing Bruce Wayne, she'll never put herself through the torture of cold wind slamming into her face. Though however, she does want to throw James out into the cold because of all the cold jokes and it's killing her brain.

 

 _No, not just James, him too. Both. Out into the cold._ She corrected herself.

 

Those burning looks that she's getting from the man sitting across her. For once she'd wished she hadn't thrown away the huge ass table she once had. At least then their eyes won't meet as often because every time she lifts her head up towards James, she would see him looking at her. Since James - that moron - decided to sit next to him! The looks, it fricking scares the shit out of her.

 

 _Please, for once in your life, stop smiling._ Annabella gave a small sip to her tea and hoped to God. But, of course, just like wishing James would help her out on the company, it doesn't happen. Which, not surprising at all.

 

"I-um-still hae work to do. There's er..."  _Why had she finished all her work?_ "There this...dafty thing...fer Mike," Annabella shut her mouth as soon as she realised her accent dived into her words.

James smiled upon the scene, "Bells, you're getting emotional." First time ever, he's saying something in a proper English accent.

Annabella blinked, but said nothing, only to give a warning scare to James.

 

The scene between the siblings made Bruce's smile grew wider.

 

"Huh, not emotional? Who was it that said she's more Brits than Scots?" James asked in the accurate English accent. He smiled and turned to Bruce, "Just so you should know, when she gets angry or embarrassed or any emotions become overwhelming, her real accent would slip out unconsciously."

 

"James!"

"For future's sake, just in case."

"James!!"

"So if one day you two get into a fight. Maybe you should learn more Scottish."

"James Charles Slora!" Annabella yelled.

 

Bruce ignored the angry Annabella, he turned to James and said, "Two years is quite a practice."

 

Annabella groaned to the words. She gulped down a mouth full of iced water, which gave her a shiver down to her spine and sighed heavily, trying to calm herself down. Only then had she opened up her mouth to speak, knowing that her Scottish accent had flown away, back to being the English, "Why are you here, Mr Wayne?"

"I'm the person that your brother is signing," Bruce answered.

 

The answer made Annabella wanting to throw the fricken cold water into James' perfect face, but she can't.  _At least not now. For the company's sake, Annabella. Wayne Industry is fine. It's Wayne Industry, it's okay. It's just Bruce Wayne. Just fucking Bruce Wayne!_

 

"Bells, breath." Seeing his sister holding her breathe, James reached out and held her hand and went back to his Scots, "En, oo. En oo. It's a wee..."

"James, shut it," Annabella gave a stare to James. She turned back to Bruce, "I presume you have the final papers with you."

 

Bruce sat back on the chair, holding the cup in front of his mouth, willing to drink. Though before drinking the coffee, he says, "Technically, I'm here for holiday," Annabella froze, "James invited me. How could I not come, when..." he says nothing else then, but smiled upon her and drank his coffee.

 

Annabella couldn't help but shove James an angry look. "That is none of my apartment," she bit into every word she spoke, trying her best not to let the Scottish to show, "I sign, James finalises, you leave with him to Ireland." 

* * *

The moment she signs the papers, not even reading through a single paper, which she supposed to, but she's so terrified right now that all she wants to is to escape. It's what she did after all the papers were all signed. She waved off James and told Mike, "If I see people following me, I promise you, they will regret everything," and she left with her car keys.

 

"You're not going after her?" James asked Bruce at the exit of the door. The two of them watching Annabella driving away without looking back.  _Very scared._ James' very sure of that.

 

"I am on holiday, am I not?" Bruce questioned and opened up the folder to a specific page. Seeing the signature, he smiled.

 

James shook his head, "She's going to be a very pissed of Brit," after the words, he walked back into the house, leaving Bruce alone at the doorway, watching the white disappear. Bruce looks back down to the page, the bold heading standing out on the page:  **Marriage Certificate.**

 

"Until next time, Mrs Wayne," he smiles.


End file.
